#i'm almost double the legal age for this drink

[cuhven]

i just got asked for id to buy red bull... bear in mind the age to buy this in the uk is 16... i'm 31............

[reevesdriver]

Mr. Dutton (NSFW)

Summary: You're recently single and living in hotels so when you get talking to your long-term friend, Beth Dutton, she invites you to stay at the Dutton ranch where you suddenly become close to the man you crushed on as you grew up, John Dutton.

Word count: 2535

Reader: Female reader

Character(s): John Dutton

Warning(s): NSFW / 🔥🔥🔥 / Smut / Unprotected Sex / Age-Gap (Reader is of legal age) / Best Friends Dad / Save a horse you know the rest / Oral Sex (M & F Receiving) / Dickhead Ex-boyfriend / John is a strong man I just know it /

Support Me: Kofi

Part 2

(AN: This man, well, this series has me in a chokehold at the minute and there's a serious lack of Yellowstone fics so here you go have some daddy Dutton🥵.)

Splitting from your useless excuse of an ex was proving to be the best thing you ever did. Even if you didn't have a place to stay and a boot full of your belongings your happiness was improving already. Your long-term friend, Beth Dutton, had invited you out for dinner and when she heard of your current hotel-staying situation she invited you back to her family ranch to stay.

You declined at first, not wanting to be in the way, but when she asked you for a ride back to the ranch and made you come inside for another drink you conveniently got talking to her father about the situation and when John Dutton said you could stay who were you to refuse?

“Thank you for letting me stay Mr Dutton."

“You can call me John, darlin’. We’ve known each other long enough to keep up the formalities.”

“Told you he wouldn’t mind.” Beth smiled as she looked up from her food. Gator had prepared a meal for the three of you since Jamie was working and Kayce and his family wanted to spend some time to themselves so John let you take his youngest sons seat next to him.

“It should only be for a few weeks. Until I can sort out a place of my own, if there’s anything that needs doing please let me know. I don’t wanna be wandering around doing nothing whilst everyone else is working.”

“We could probably use some help keeping the place tidy but I’ll see if Rip needs any help too.”

“Thanks Beth.”

Later in the day Beth showed you to your room and after John insisted on helping you bring the boxes of your belongings up you got settled for the night. The room that had been given to you was large, definitely the largest room you'd ever stayed in, and as you hung your clothes up in the double-wardrobe you peered out of the window and across the ranch taking in the sights.

It had been a few years or so since you'd had the chance to come back to the Dutton ranch. Between working and dealing with your ex it became almost impossible to have any time to yourself let alone with your friends. Fortunately you remained in touch with Beth and despite you not being able to meet up like you used to you were thankful that she was understanding.

You sighed. You hadn't thought about your ex since walking out of the relationship after you found out he was cheating and you were annoyed that after a few weeks he decided to plague your mind now when you were trying to start fresh. As if on queue your phone pinged with a text from said ex and you felt the tears start to well up in your eyes as you saw the brief begging message he'd said. A gentle knock on the open bedroom door brought your attention away from your phone screen.

"You alright?" Johns soft voice filled the room as he stood cautiously in the doorway.

You sniffled a little bit and wiped the corners of your eyes before nodding. "Yeah I will be." You turn to face him. "Thank you for letting me stay John, it really means a lot to me."

"You don't need to thank me darlin', you're welcome here anytime. I'm headin' to bed but if you need anything then come and wake me alright?" He says and you nod in understanding. "Make sure you get some rest."

John turned and left the doorway, closing the door behind him he left you in peace as you continued to put your clothes away. When you finished you picked up your phone, blocked your ex and climbed under the sheets after turning the light off.

The following morning the Duttons woke before you did and made their way downstairs. Beth made herself a drink and then sat at the dining table immediately digging in to the food that Gator had put out for them. Soon after, her father followed and took his seat at the head of the table with his own drink.

“Is she still asleep?” John asks, referring to you and Beth nods. “I was thinking of getting her set up in the stables, she was always good with grooming the horses so figured that’s a good place to start.”

Beth agreed and soon they fell into silence, silence that was soon interrupted by Beths phone pinging. When she checked it a smile crossed her face and soon she was standing up and excusing herself for the rest of the morning. Shortly after Beth had left you'd woke and quickly got dressed after checking the time. It was still early morning but you didn't want to start sleeping in especially since you offered to help around the ranch.

Exiting the bedroom you made your way through the house and eventually to the dining room where you saw John sat at the table on his own. "I was wondering when you would be making an appearance." He greeted you with a smile. Gator was bringing more plates of food to the table, toast, bacon, eggs etc and you felt like you were in heaven.

"That was probably the best night sleep I've had in a while." You smiled and took the seat that you had sat in the night before. "I hope I didn't get up too late."

John laughed. "Darlin' you're up earlier than I thought you would be anyway so it's fine."

"You got any jobs for me today?"

"Actually yes, i want you to groom the horses if you're up to it, they haven't been bathed in a while and even though the men in the bunkhouse are capable they never get them looking like you did."

You happily agree and think back to all the times you spent with Johns horses, brushing their mains and fur, bathing them and just overall paying as much attention to them as possible. John always watched you from a distance since he had other things to be taking care of but when you stopped coming around he started to notice that the horses looked dirtier and never seemed to be as clean as they used to be.

Finishing off your breakfast you started the day with choosing a horse and hosing them down before washing and drying them. You brushed their fur, main and platted their tail before mucking out their stable and then moving on to the next one. By the end of the week you'd cleaned up a handful of the horses and had been introduced to the new workers like Jimmy and reacquainted with the old ones like Lloyd and Rip who you'd come to miss. You helped out where you could but when Friday night hit you were glad to have been told to rest over the weekend by John.

Your old cowboy boots had rubbed your feet raw as it had been so long since you'd last worn them. When you entered the house you kicked off your boots and carried them upstairs to your room sitting on the edge of the bed you removed your socks and frowned at the redness of your feet. As the sun set you undressed and showered before returning to the bedroom and climbing into bed. Not a minute or so after your head hit the pillow your phone pinged.

Sitting up you were curious as to who could be texting you, that was until you saw the 13 missed calls and around 50 texts from an unknown number. Your stomach dropped, it was your ex and the messages ranged from "I miss you" to "Go fuck yourself" as well as. few others thrown in here and there for good measure. You skimmed the messages quickly when another one came through "I can see that you've read my messages, fucking reply to me." and with that you blocked the number and turned off your phone.

All the work you'd done over the past few days didn't seem to have affected you anymore since you'd gone from being on the verge of falling asleep to wide awake in a matter of minutes. You tossed and turned in bed trying to fall asleep but after 2 hours had passed you gave up.

Leaving the bedroom you stepped into the surprisingly warm hallway and made your way to the staircase. Peering over the bannister you saw John who looked comfortable for once, normally any time you'd seen him he was tense but now, sat in front of the lit fire with a tumbler of Whiskey on the side table and his feet up on the coffee table he looked relaxed. “What’re you doing up?” You ask after glancing at the clock on the wall.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He replies looking up from his book as you descended the staircase.

“Can’t sleep, mind if I grab a book and join you?”

“Help yourself.” He replies and you smile. John watches from his position on the couch as you turn and head towards the bookcases. He watches you skim the leather bound books for a title that piqued your interest. Reaching up for a familiar title and raising up onto your tip-toes makes your oversized t-shirt rise up your thighs and stop just under your ass. John struggles not to choke on his drink as he drags his eyes up your thighs and catches a glimpse of your laced underwear peaking from underneath the baggy t-shirt.

After grabbing a book you quietly made yourself a drink from the bar and took a seat on the couch next to John as he topped up his glass with the opened bottle of Whiskey next to him. “Whatcha reading?” He asks with genuine curiosity. You flashed him the cover of the book and he recognised the title. “Good choice.” He smiles and you smile back.

Sitting down on the couch next to him you made sure to leave some room between the both of you. Your legs were bent at the knee and tucked up next to you and it didn’t take long until you started rubbing at the sore areas of your feet. The action didn’t go unnoticed and soon John broke the silence. “Your feet hurting you?”

“Yeah, been a while since I’ve worn my boots. Think they need breaking in again or I need a new pair.” You laugh.

“Here, let me.” He says extending his hand out to you and you knew better than to argue with him. Lifting your feet you drop them into his lap gently, the fabric of his jeans rubbing against the backs of your legs. Suddenly it took you much longer to finish a page as your mind kept wandering to Johns calloused hand rubbing your feet as he continued to read his book, stopping occasionally to take a sip of his drink.

His lap was warm, his jeans felt nice and rough and as his hand traced the bottom of your foot up to your ankle you felt the growing rigid length of his cock press against the side of your foot. Your eyes were no longer focused on the book and instead you peered over the pages to look at your best friends dad as you gently tilted your foot towards his crotch. Johns breath caught in his throat, his rough hand grabbed your ankle and he looked over to you. "Be careful darlin', I don't want you doing something you'll regret." He spoke before moving your feet off of his lap so he could stand up.

You watched as John grabbed the now empty bottle of Whiskey and passed round the back of the couch, leaving the room and entering the kitchen. Thoughts raced around your head and after deciding on what to do you opted to go with the idea that would hopefully release the pulsing between your legs. Standing from the couch you shimmied your lacy underwear down your hips and let them drop to your feet before picking them up and walking over to the book that John was reading.

You dropped the flimsy fabric on-top of the closed book, grabbed your glass and walked past John to the kitchen as he made his way back to the couch. You poured another drink and barely had time to take a sip when heavy footsteps stopped at the doorway of the kitchen. “You forget something sweetheart?” John says and you smirk. Turning to face him you see your underwear gripped in one of his calloused hands.

“I didn’t forget anything sir.” You reply. He lets out a hoarse laugh and closes the distance between the pair of you. Your back is pressed against the counter and John is pressed up against your front peering down at you with a smirk.

"You're a little tease aren't you."

"Only for you." You reply and he laughs again.

"Beth'll kill you if she finds out, hell I think she'd kill the both of us."

"We best hurry up then whilst we have an empty house."

Lifting you up onto the counter John parts your legs and kisses the inside of your thighs before devouring your cunt. One of your hands found the back of his head and you ran your fingers through his hair as he continued to lap and suck at your clit, his rough hands that were delicately rubbing your feet moments ago now roughy grabbing at your thighs to keep you steady.

Your thighs threatened to trap his face as he made you cum with his tongue and soon you were jumping down off the counter and dragging John back to the couch. Shoving him down you dropped to your knees with a crack and made quick work at unbuttoning his jeans freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear. You licked the tip before drawing it into your mouth and using your spit to soak his shaft.

His hand is resting on the back of your head as it bobbed whilst you sucked his cock. You always assumed that since John was a tall man he would have the cock to match and you were pleasantly surprised to find that it was true. When your jaw started hurting from shoving his girth between your lips you stood and straddled his thighs wasting no time in lowering yourself down on his cock.

John lifted up your t-shirt and took a nipple into his mouth roughly sucking it as you bounced on his lap, his hands moved to grip your hips as your cunt swallowed his thick cock with every rise and fall of your body. Cumming on his cock John wasn't far behind you, his laboured breathing urged you to push through the burning sensation in your thighs to bring him to his high. Pushing you roughly against his thighs John held you in place as he came, pulsing thick ropes of cum deep inside you.

"Looks like you still have it in you old man." You laugh trying to catch your breath.

"I'll show you more of what an old man can do."

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 10- Mori/Atsushi/Fukuzawa- with promts Spitroasting & threesome

Notes: So just pretend that the Q mess was instantly cleaned up or something, i don't want to deal with it. But Francis is still out there, menacingly or whatever. I literally could not figure out when Atsushi finds out that Mori is the boss of the port mafia, so I'm going to assume Atsushi doesnt know at this point.

Also im keeping some age gap because it's hot but I'm making Atsushi twenty instead of eighteen. Btw the legal age of drinking in japan is 20, i checked

“Um Sir, are you sure it's ok for me to come?” Atsushi twists his hands in circles, following closely behind Fukuzawa as they make their way down a brightly lit street. “Yes, of course. This was your idea, Atsushi, so you deserve to be there.” Fukuzawa walks in long strides, looking unfamiliar in a three piece suit. Atsushi walks double to keep up, the pants of his own suit, kindly gifted to him by the President, stiff and hard to run in. They fit perfectly, almost like they were tailor made to his body measurements. The President slows down slightly, allowing Atsushi to walk beside him. He shoots the shorter boy an apologetic glance.

They walk through downtown Yokohama at dusk. The lights have come on, and the roads are choked with cars, people on their way home from work probably. The sidewalks are busy as well, and people pore in and out of the brightly lit restaurants, laughter perfuming the air. In all honesty, Atsushi had not thought that Fukuzawa would accept his suggestion of an alliance. He was a new member of the Agency after all, and an Alliance with the Port Mafia sounded a little crazy, even to his ears. But to his surprise, Fukuzawa had accepted with only a few clarifying questions. And so here they were, walking down a main restaurant district street apparently going to meet with the boss of the port mafia.

“Um Fukuzawa Sir?” They stop at a red light, and Fukuzawa turns those eyes on him. “Yes?” Honestly when Atsushi had first arrived at the detective Agency he had been scared of the president. But then, he saw him cooing over cats in the backyard and his image was forever changed. “Well, I was wondering where we’re going.” The light changes and they move across the street, toward where the more expensive restaurants are. “We’re going to the meeting.” Fukuzaw responds.

Atsushi feels lost. He follows Fukuzawa, dodging the occasional pedestrian as people pass by them. Large groups, clearly leaving work parties. Loves truck couples on dates, families headed to dinner. Even the occasional large group of giggling school girls, who shoot Fukuzawa dreamy eyed stares. I mean it makes sense. The President is a handsome man and he looks especially dashing in a suit. It's a dark grayish green three piece, with a white shirt and a yellow green tie. Atsushi’s own outfit is fancy as well, a black double breasted vest, a dark gray shirt and black tie pulling the whole thing together. It's expensive, Atsushi can tell from the fabric. The same group of girls shoots Atsushi a jealous look as he catches up, and Fukuzawa grips his waist, pulling him away from a biker careening a bit too close to the sidewalk. Atsushi ignores their angry stares. 

“Um sir, sorry but i'm a little confused.” Atsushi says, leaving the high school girls angry stares behind. “I thought we were going to the Port Mafia building.”

“We decided that instead of going to meet in a public park or something, we would meet somewhere else.” Fukuzawa sighs, an angry tick in his jaw. “Mori insisted, after I told him I was bringing you, for some reason.” That name sounds familiar, but Atsushi just can't place it. And for some reason, it looks like the President and this Mori fellow know each other better than Fukuzawa had let on. “We’re here.” The president says.

They’ve come to a stop outside of a sushi restaurant. It's a new age design, and Atsushi blanches as he spots the line out the door that weaves around the corner. People, mostly couples, lined up around the corner, dressed in semi formal outfits and anxiously checking watches. Every few minutes a smartly dressed waiter steps out of the restaurant, and whispers something to the Maitre D who nods, calling out a number and guiding a group through the foggy double doors. But just as fast as someone goes in, three more people get in line behind. Atsushi frowns, following Fukuzawa as he marches straight up to the maitre d, a smartly dressed woman standing behind a small podium by the double glass doors. The woman glares. “Can't you see we have a line, Sir.” 

Atsushi flinches. She’s rather rude for someone running the front of a restaurant. Fukuzawa mearly sighs. “We have a reservation for a back room.” The woman glares on, unimpressed. “Card?” Fukuzawa hands her a small golden card. There's black writing on it, but Atsushi can't quite make it out. The woman flips it around, scanning the letters with a magnifying glass, carefully looking for something, what Atsushi doesn't know. But after a minute or so, she nods, and a waiter steps out from behind the frosted double doors, smiling much more pleasantly at the two of them. “If you and your date will follow me, Sir.” Atsushi flushes, and opens his mouth to protest but Fukuzawa just slips a hand on his waist, a silent confirmation. 

“Come on Dear, this way.” Atsushi knows he’s blushing like a tomato, but he does the wise thing and shuts up as the waiter leads them through a crowded restaurant. Fukuzawa leans down. “Sorry Atsushi, but bear with it for now. They won't let you in without a reservation card.”

He must be talking about that strange little golden card Fukuzawa gave the Maitre D earlier. Face still steaming, Atsushi manages a nod and clutches at Fukuzawa’s dark suit jacket in what he hopes is a ‘couply’ way. Fukuzawa’s hand is big, big enough to wind quite a long way around Atsushi’s waist. Atsushi can feel the heat of it through his layers. Fukuzawa is a good bit taller than him as well, and as Fukuzawa tugs him closer still Atsushi’s head hits his shoulder lightly, his silver hair brushes against it. 

The room the waiter leads them to is empty. The room is small, with a large table set for three waits for them in the middle, and little outcoves full of flowers. “I’ll be back soon with the rest of your party.” The waiter says, and then closes the door behind them. A slightly awkward silence fills the small room. Fukuzawa’s hand is still on Atsushi’s waist as he leads him to a seat, placed on the short side of the rectangular table. The other two place settings are exactly opposite each other, conveniently placed just out of weapon range. They seat themselves, and before the silence can get any more awkward the door opens and a smug, familiar man follows the Waiter into the room. 

“Didn't wait to seat yourselves i see, still as rude as ever huh Fukuzawa.” There, standing smartly in a pitch black suit is the strange doctor fellow Atsushi had met in Anne’s room. This time cleanly shaven and with a peculiar unfamiliar gleam in his eyes. Atsushi’s jaw almost hits the floor. Fukuzawa merely sighs. “Give your scalpels to the waiter Mori, they aren't allowed in here.” Mori chuckles darkly, and holds up his hands in surrender. Two metal scalpels are placed in the waiter's hands. The waiter for the most part looks mostly unfazed, and simply hands over the menus and is gone with a smile. Mori’s eyes fall on him, and, Atsushi must be hallucinating, he throws him a little wink. “Well well Were-Tiger, it's nice to see you again.” 

The shocked look must be plain on his face because Mori chuckles. Fukuzawa turns a confused look on Atsushi. “You know him?” Atsushi picks his jaw up off the ground. “Um, when Lucy from the Guild captured me and Junichiro, he helped us.” Mori smiles, a rather predatory smile, but still attractive. “Yes that's right.” Mori sidles around the table, brushing close to Atsushi. He smells faintly of rosemary, sandalwood and something deep he can't quite place. The two men sit across from each other, twin expressions of hatred painted across their faces. Atsushi realizes all at once that this is going to be a long dinner. 

“It's so nice to see you, although I see you haven't bought your creepy ability this time.” Fukuzawa flips the Menu open aggressively, as if the laminated pages have personally wronged him.

“The feeling is mutual, Fukuzawa. I see you still have a fondness for cats.” Mori gestures in Atsushi’s direction, and Atsushi flushes. “But tell me kid, how old are you?” Its and odd question, and Fukuzawa’s face visibly darkens, but Atsushi see’s no reason not to respond. “I just turned twenty.” 

Mori’s dark eyes twinkle, and Fukuzawa frowns even harder. “How nice!” He gestures at the menu before him, shooting Atsushi another wink. “Order whatever you want, kitten, think of it as a late birthday gift.” Atsushi flushes at the nickname, but the prospect of free sushi almost has him drooling. “Are you sure?” He asks, although he knows his eyes are shining with anticipation. “You already gave me this nice suit Sir.” Fukuzawa’s face loses its glare as he turns to him, and smiles faintly. “Sure, we’ll split the bill.” 

Atsushi can't hold back his excitement as he eyes the menu. The place is so fancy they don't even list the prices, and although it's slightly concerning, he’s not paying so he doesn't care. His mouth is watering as he stares at the nigiri. The two men chuckle at his enthusiasm. Mori smiles his way. “So, Fukuzawa bought you a suit huh?” Fukuzawa glares, Mori just smiles wider. “That's a custom tailored model, he must have prepared it early.” 

“You're finally cracking Mori, that's clearly not true.” Atsushi isn't even really paying much attention, still drooling over the pictures in the menu. Mori just smirks, that feral smirk. “I bet you dreamed about seeing him—” Fukuzawa kicks him hard, Mori just smiles. “Ooh, touched a nerve. Straight laced Fukuzawa desiring a subordinate. Blasphemous.” 

Atsushi catches the last words, looking up from the menu and at the two men glaring at each other. “What was that? Something about blasphemy?” Mori opens his mouth, but the waiter interrupts him, stepping back into the room with a smile.

“What can I get you gentlemen to start?”

“You want some sake kitten? I know your president does.” Mori gets another kick under the table, but Atsushi nods. The older men give their orders and the waiter leaves with a nod. 

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

The door closes behind Atsushi with a decisive little click, on his way to the bathroom. Fukuzawa glares at the man in front of him. Mori smirks, leaning back in his chair.

“What an adorable little subordinate you’ve got.” Mori leans forward like he’s telling a secret.  “Im just dying to fuck him.” Fukuzawa glares so hard he thinks his eyebrows might actually fall off. “How inappropriate, he’s much younger than both of us.” Fukuzawa hates how the suggestion brings in images he’s been dying to erase from his mind. 

“But that's boring.” Mori says. Fukuzawa rolls his eyes so far back into his head that he thinks they may get stuck there. Mori continues. “I saw you staring at his cute little ass when he left for the bathroom. Nice job with the suit by the way, fits him like a glove.” 

“I was not staring at his butt.” Fukuzawa totally was, but he’ll take that secret to the grave. “You can admit it to me, you know.” Mori says. He downs a cup of sake, pouring himself another. “I can imagine what I'd do to him. ” Fukuzawa can imagine it too. He glares. Mori laughs. “Oh my bad. I’d be happy to share him, maybe over the table?” Mori says. He chuckles, passing Fukuzawa the sake bottle.  “Ah, reminds me of the old days.” Fukuzawa feels his thoughts drift involuntarily back to the ‘old days’. Several occasions with a woman between them in a hotel room.(and the other occasions he’d rather forget, without the woman between them. Just heat and soft skin and panted angry ‘I hate you’s. He'd rather die than think of those days again however.)

It's appalling how clearly he can imagine the scene. Atsushi’s thin body painted with hickeys, his pretty mouth spit slicked mouth wrapped around Fukuzawa’s co—

Fukuzawa coughs, clearing his throat and hopefully his brain at the same time. 

“You know why we’re having this meeting in the first place Mori, so please try to be serious.” Mori bats a hand at him, much akin to the way someone would bat at an especially annoying bug. “Yeah yeah, I agree with the alliance and everything. So anyway, does Atsushi like men?” Fukuzawa almost chokes. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah, it's a really good idea, no matter how distasteful the idea of working with you is. But answer my question.” Mori says, sipping on the sake the waiter had returned with. “I don't know, it's not my business to pry into my coworkers' sexuality's.” Fukuzawa says, clearing his throat with a cough. “Don't be dramatic, it's called gossip.” Mori says. Fukuzawa shoots him an eye roll. Whenever the two of them are together they seem to revert to their younger selves again. It's honestly a little embarrassing. Mori sighs. “I'll just have to ask Dazai.” He takes out his phone, and scrolls through his contacts. Fukuzawa eyes it with a glare as it begins to ring. “Why do you even want to know?” Mori simply raises an eyebrow at him, wiggling it suggestively, Fukuzawa feels heat start in his neck. Mori chuckles. “Don't you want to know too, Fukuzawa.” And although he chokes out a denial, Fukuzawa listens a little two closely as Dazai picks up.

“What do you want, Mori.” Dazai sounds annoyed.

“Oh nothing, I just had a question.” Mori says, twirling a strand of hair around his finger. He almost resembles a high school girl gossiping on the phone. Almost. Ok he really doesn't.

“Shoot.”

“Does Atsushi like men?” 

Fukuzawa hears a choking on the other side of the line, and faintly he can hear laughter in the background. A lot of it. Dazai must be still at work, although he’s probably not working. 

“Yes–No–Why would I tell you?” Fukuzawa is almost disappointed, and then corrects his attitude and immediately congratulates Dazai in his head with only the mildest bit of bitterness.

“Your president wants to know.” Fukuzawa barely resists the urge to throw something at Mori, maybe a sake cup. 

“No, no it dont. I don't care. I don't.” Fukuzawa blurts out, and that was probably a bad idea because now Mori is smirking.

“See? He wants to know.”

“Well I actually don't know, but we do have an office bet running.” Dazai says, his voice less full of venom and more amusement. 

“You have a what?” Fukuzawa feels he needs to have a talk with all of them about proper office conduct, but he doubts it will have that much effect.

“Sorry Boss.” Dazai doesn't really sound that sorry at all.

“So, how's it going?” Mori sounds a bit too invested. Fukuzawa glares at him. 

“Well, Yosano and i bet Bisexual, Naomi and Tanzaki think Gay, and Kunikida said he refuses to participate in such activities.” Fukuzawa makes a mental note to give Kunikida a raise. 

“What did Ranpo say?” Fukuzawa asks, in spite of himself. 

“We banned him from betting, it wouldn't be any fun.”

Ranpo’s voice comes out muffled through the speaker. “For the record, he’s Bisexual.” A series of groans echo through the room, and Fukuzawa can faintly hear money being passed around.

“Sorry I took so long, some ladies ambushed me by the bathrooms.” It's Atsushi, closing the door behind him with a click. “By the way, what's a sugar daddy?” Dead fucking silence wraps the room for a moment, before someone chokes on the line and the whole armed detective Agency bursts out laughing. Atsushi frowns in confusion. “The ladies by the bathrooms kept congratulating me for getting two Sugar Daddies, and said it made sense because I was pretty.” Fukuzawa feels his face burning red and even Mori across from him is flushed, even though he is smiling. 

“You see Atsushi…” Damn it Dazai is still on the phone. “A Sugar Daddy is a rich older man who  gives gifts to a young person in return for sex—” Mori hangs up on him with a beep, but the damage has been done, Atsushi’s face is flushed a charming red. Fukuzawa sighs, deep and long. But before he can launch into the speech he’s mentally preparing, the waiter arrives with their food. Fukuzawa resolves to leave a large tip

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Its plate by the time they finish up at the restaurant, and step out into the street. Atsushi feels full and satisfied, and it didn't cost him a scent. The two men kept their word and paid for the meal in full. Apparently Mori had agreed to the alliance, but the actual details of it where still being hammered out. 

“I will not give you free reign over the harbor district.” Fukuzawa says, hand twitching for his sword. Atsushi sighs. 

“Well, I need the harbor district to conduct work.” Mori says, speaking directly over Atsushi’s head. He’s sandwiched between them as they stand outside of the restaurant, and he feels very short. 

“What kind of work? Illegal work?”

“We are the mafia.” 

“Um Sir, if it's alright to interject.” Both men turn to look at him and he shrinks under their combined gazes. “Maybe you guys should have this conversation somewhere else? People are staring.” The bubble seemingly popped, both men look around and take in the different kinds of stares their getting. The angry stares of people trying to go around them on the street, the curious stares of people in line, and even a few stares of disgust, from people who probably still think that these men are his ‘sugar daddies’. Atsushi flushes a little at the implications. 

“We can go to my office.” Mori offers. Fukuzawa glares. “And probably have to fight through several hundred armed guards?” And now they're arguing again. Atsushi is distinctly reminded a bit of Dazai and Kunikida, if Dazai and Kunikida threw insults at each other like two year olds. It's sometimes easy to forget that Mori is perhaps one of the most powerful men in Yokohama, and the same for the president. 

“Um, we could go to your office Fukuzawa sir, it's easily accessible and the only people that will be there this late at night is Kunikida.” The men turn their eyes back on him again, considering. Atsushi is kind of waiting for his suggestion to get shut down, but then Fukuzawa nods, and Mori winds an arm around his waist, subtly pulling him away from Fukuzawa. 

“What an excellent suggestion Kitten! You’re quite impressive, you know.” Atsushi flushes at the praise. Fukuzawa grabs his arm, pulling him away from Mori’s arm. “This way Atsushi, hurry up.” Fukuzawa says, pulling Atsushi's arm. Mori grabs his other arm. “Now wait up, it'll be fast to call a company car. The sidewalks are choked up at this time of night. And besides,” He says, gesturing at a darkened ally. “It gets sketchy as hell around here, and I'd prefer not to get blood on this suit.” 

Fukuzawa frowns, and Atsushi is sure he's going to protest just for protestings sake, but then he nods with a sigh. “Fine.” He says, dropping Atsushi’s arm. 

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

The car was really fancy. A sleek black on the outside and inside and it even had a driver! The car ride was kind of annoying though. Fukuzawa refused to let him sit in the back with Mori, and Mori refused to sit next to Fukuzawa so Atsushi spent the car ride smashed between two handsome men who wouldn't stop throwing petty insults back and forth. He could smell them again, Mori’s scent of rosemary and sandalwood, and Fukuzawa’s clean smell, tinged with green tea. And as pleasant as that may sound, the rest of it was not. When they were not insulting each other, Mori would try to ask him a question or say something nice and Fukuzawa would swing at him over Atsushi’s head and suddenly two middle aged men were having a slap war above his head. It was the same way when Fukuzawa tried to say something to him as well. 

But now it's over and they're walking up the stairs of the Agency building, and Mori is snidely insulting the building and Fukuzawa is saying something insulting right back. And Atsushi would defend the building but he has a feeling Mori doesnt actually think that he’s just saying it to fuck with Fukuzawa and Atsushi really is forgetting how powerful these two men are. 

Also, through the entire night, it almost seems like Mori’s flirting with him. Now Atsushi doesn't have much experience with this stuff, and his knee jerk reaction is to deny, but then again…

“You cant do a double suicide, all by yourself~” Atsushi can hear it from all the way down the hall. Fukuzawa sighs, and murmurs something about apologizing to the people downstairs as Atsushi pulls the wooden door to the detective Agency open. 

Surprisingly, a good number of people are in the office when they arrive. Dazai is sitting at his desk with headphones on singing really loudly and off-key. Kunikida is at his desk with earplugs on, pointedly ignoring Dazai. Ranpo is perched on his desk, playing some video games and munching on snacks, also with headphones in. Naomi and Junichiro are sitting at their desks, sorting thirdly through paperwork. They all look up at the three new arrivals. 

Kunikida looks up a little late, pulling his earplugs out of his ears. 

“So Atsushi, I see you brought your new ‘Sugar Daddies’, huh.” Kunikida, who Atsushi guesses was absent from the office during The Phone Call™, chokes on his own spit. “Wha-who, excuse me—” Atsushi can feel the flush working up his neck again. Mori smirks, and Fukuzawa, perhaps sensing danger, jumps in. “That is highly inappropriate, Dazai. We’re still negotiating contract details, Kunikida, and since we didn't finish at the restaurant Atsushi very smartly suggested we come here.”

“They were arguing about the Harbor district in the middle of the street.” Atsushi, who’s kind of tired of their nonsense, says. “And then they spent the entire car ride insulting each other over my head.”

“Yes,” Mori says, giving a fake sad sigh. “Unfortunately Fukuzawa just refused to sit in the front of the limo. So poor this kitten was squished between us.” Someone chokes, probably Kunikida and Dazai murmurs ‘kitten?’ under his breath.

“Well you refused to sit next to me, and so Atsushi had to sit between us. And I refuse to let my prescouse subordinate sit alone in the back with you, especially with the way you were eyeing him.” Fukuzawa glares, and they're at it again. Naomi sends Atsushi a sympathetic look. “They’ve been like this all night then?” She says, shooting him a small smile at his nod of conformation. 

“I would never do anything in the limo, that's not my kink Fukuzawa. You know that.” 

“I wish I didn't. I'll never forget—”

“Um, Fukuzawa Sir, Mr Mori Sir, how about you guys go negotiate alliance details in the office. I have some stuff i need to—”

Atsushi is interrupted by Mori’s arm, winding around his waist again. “Nonsense! Without you there we would simply devolve to bloodshed or something worse.” Mori says, his gloved hand stroking Atsushi’s waist softly. It feels nice, and Atsushi can feel the warmth of his hand through all the layers of fabric. 

“For ounce, I actually agree with Mori. You can simply give your work to Dazai.” Fukuzawa says, smiling slightly. “Think of it as payback for how he pawns his work onto you.” 

A few stares are traded around the office as Atsushi is dragged away. Kunikida simply looks confused, while Naomi and Junichiro trade equally knowing looks. Dazai just chuckles to himself, then goes back to his horrendous singing. 

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

The actual process of arguing small details didn't take that too long. After about forty minutes of back and forth about the harbor district, where about halfway through Kunikida brought them some alcohol and cups and informed them the others were leaving, Fukuzawa compromised about The Harbor district. And after that, the problems just flew by. And then they were shaking hands and signing a formal document with Atsushi as witness. And then, it was all over and they were all drinking and Atsushi could feel a faint pleasant buzz. He was by no means drunk, just clearly a bit tipsy. 

A record in the corner is playing slow, sexy jazz and somehow, over the ten or so minutes they’ve been drinking, Atsushi’s been sandwiched between the two men again. But this time, it's less uncomfortable because they're drinking and laughing, and both of them have taken off their coats to relax. And although they can't help but throw a dig or two in there, the constant insults have stopped, and the two of them are, if not friends, resembling something closer. 

Atsushi lets himself sink back into the couch, his head hitting Mori’s arm, which slung across the back of the couch. He’s noticed over the entirety of the evening, that the man seems to be a very physical person. He would very freely touch Atsushi’s arm or waist, and even now his hand, the one currently not holding a glass of whiskey, was reaching up, stroking Atsushi’s head softly. It felt really nice. Mori was a strange man. At times Atsushi really forgot that he was the head of the port mafia, a man whose clothes were stained with blood. But, he had been quite kind to Atsushi. 

And he was handsome. Very handsome in a sexy aged kind of way. Not unlike a wine. Yeah, the president was like a Wine too. A white wine though. The president was white wine, while Mori was red wine. Atsushi chuckles to himself. 

“What are you laughing about, kitten?” Mori’s eyes are sparkly. He’s not sure why he didn't notice that earlier. 

“Oh, i was noticing how you guys are like wine.” Atsushi says.

“Like wine?” Fukuzawa’s voice is sexy, all deep and raspy. It resonates in Atsushi’s bones, warming his body slightly. 

“You guys are so handsome. In an aged kind of way.” Atsushi says. Fukuzawa chokes, and Mori chuckles. Atsushi continues, smiling slightly. “The president is a white wine, and Mr. Mori is a red wine.” Mori’s hand is tangled in his hair now, lightly massaging his scalp. It feels good. 

“You think we’re handsome?” Mori says, placing his mostly empty glass on the coffee table before him. Atsushi nods. “Yes, very. I’ve been thinking about it the whole night.” He says. Someone in the back of his mind is screaming at him to shut up, but he feels pleasantly buzzed and his walls are slipping. Mori chuckles. “Well kitten, Fukuzawa and I think you're very pretty. Infact,” He leans close like he’s telling a secret, and Atsushi smells that scent of rosemary and sandalwood. “I’ve just been dying to fuck you stupid.” Atsushi feels a twinge of arousal sing though his body. He would like that, he definitely would very much so. 

On his other side, Fukuzawa coughs, directing his ire at Mori. “Seriously Mori? I'm right here.” Atsushi personally see’s no problem in this, and Mori seems to agree, because he speaks directly to Fukuzawa. “Why don't you join in? Atsushi wants you to. Right Kitten?” Atsushi nods, turning to look at the President on his other side. “Yes, I want you Sir.” 

“See Fukuzawa, no need to hold back.” Mori’s hand, still tangled in his hair, gently draws Atsushi’s eyes back to his own. Red eyes, pretting red eyes, twinkling with a strange light, heavy lidded. And then the hand on Atsushi’s head is pulling him forward, and Atsushi closes his eyes as Mori’s lips touch his own. Mori kisses deep, devouring Atsushi’s lips, stealing his breath away. His other hand winds up, slowly working the buttons on Atsushi’s double breasted vest, showing no hurry. Atsushi does his best to keep up, slowly following Mori’s lead. He feels a warm hand on his thigh, slowly stroking it, fingers just avoiding where he needs them to be. Fukuzawa’s other hand strokes his back, almost soothingly. 

Mori’s tongue is tracing the seam of his lips now, begging for entrance. Atsushi opens his mouth. Mori is obviously experienced, his tongue tangles with Atsushi’s own much more skillfully, tracing the inseams of his mouth, all while those fingers slowly undo his buttons. The hand on his thigh is tracing closer and closer to where he needs it, and Atsushi feels like a tightly wound bobble, waiting for the caress of a hand on his hard dick. 

Mori separates from his mouth, and Atsushi flushes at the dirty string of saliva that follows their separating tongues. It breaks when Mori dives back in, this time leaving little kisses on his neck. Atsushi’s head falls back, mouth parting in a soft moan as Fukuzawa’s hand finally strokes his dick. It feels good, even with layers of fabric softening the sensation. 

“Feel good?” Fukuzawa is watching him, his voice dropped down to a sensual whisper. Atsushi nods. “Yes, Fukuzawa Sir.” 

“Wow, Sir. That's hardcore.” Mori murmurs against his neck, and Atsushi moves as Mori’s skilled fingers undo the last button, discarding the vest on the coffee table. He presses a delicate kiss to his jaw, as his fingers move much faster, undoing the buttons of his shirt. Fukuzawa’s still applied the slightest of pressures to Atsushi’s clothed dick. He speaks right over Atsushi’s head. 

“Shut up Mori.” Although his words are aggressive, his tone doesn't match. It's still all low and sensual, and Atsushi moans as his fingers dance over his dick, the teasing touches a cruel torture as Fukuzawa undoes the zipper of his pants. But it's all worth it when Fukuzawa’s hand reaches into his boxers, finally coming in contact with his dick. Atsushi’s head falls back with an embarrassing moan, and he thrusts up into Fukuzawa’s hand. 

Mori had shed his gloves at some point during the drinking, and now his bare hand is trailing across Atsushi’s chest, the slightest bit of contact a delicious tease until he comes in contact with a nipple, brushing over the hard nub. Atsushi whimpers, an embarrassing sound, loud to his ears but still barely hearable over the jazz. Mori chuckles. “Such a very sensitive Kitten.” He says, shoving two fingers into Atsushi’s open mouth. “Now be a good boy and suck.” Atsushi obeys to the best of his abilities, distracted as he is by the stimulus on his dick and nipples. He sucks hard on Mori’s fingers, creating what he hopes is a pleasurable vacuum, occasionally using his tongue to trace the rough pads. 

“You're doing so well, Kitten. Such a good boy.” Mori says. The praise warms his heart, and at the same time he bucks into Fukuzawa’s hand. “Praise, huh. Stand for me, Atsushi.” Fukuzawa says, his hands momentarily leaving Atsushi’s dick to push down his pants. Mori’s fingers slip out of his mouth as he gets to his feet, kicking his pants away. And then his world is spinning as Fukuzawa’s big hands grip his waist, sitting him smack dab on Mori’s lap. 

“Condoms?” Mori asks, promptly shoving his fingers back into Atsushi’s mouth, rather roughly. Atsushi chokes around the intrusion, much more forceful this time, but shamefully his dick twitches at the force, and he shifts on Mori’s lap. Mori definitely notices. 

“Oh, you like it rough huh.” Atsushi nods around the fingers, whimpering. Mori smirks. “How dirty Kitten, just the way I like it.” He moves his fingers out and in, and Atsushi just lets his jaw fall slack, letting Mori do what he wishes. It's arousing to surrender control, to let this dangerous man do what he wills, and Atsushi’s free hand moves down the stroke himself over his boxers. His dick is leaking, staining his boxers with a quickly spreading wet stain, and as Atsushi grinds down against Mori’s lap, he feels a large hard thing under his ass. Mori groans in his ear, and Atsushi’s world is tilted on its axis.

When the spinning stops, Atsushi finds himself laying on his hands and knees on Fukuzawa’s brown couch, Mori’s hands smoothing over his butt. 

“You look so sexy like this kitten.” Mori says, his wet fingers prodding slightly at Atsushi’s hole. Atsushi shivers at the praise, and then keens as fingers penetrate his hole. It's an odd feeling, but not entirely unpleasant. But still, Atsushi feels himself flagging a little as Mori shoves his fingers in, stretching his ass out for a bigger intrusion. Mori notices. 

“Does it hurt?” He says, pausing his motions, his fingers still lodged deep in Atsushi’s ass. Atsushi shakes his head. “No, just strange.” 

“I see.” Mori resumes his motions, slowly withdrawing almost all the way out before he enters again, his pace slow and deep. And soon, Atsushi feels the strange discomfort turn to pleasure. And soon he’s arching his back, keening, begging for more. 

“I'm back, I had to borrow some from the infirmary.” Fukuzawa says, passing a foil packet to Mori. When had he left? Atsushi hadn't noticed. He returns to the couch, bending over to kiss Atsushi harshly on the mouth. His kiss is different from Mori’s, much more aggressive, but Atsushi can't decide which one he likes more. And while he’s distracted, having his tongue sucked on by Fukuzawa, Mori slips on the condom, lining the head of his cock up with Atsushi’s ass. 

He pushes in slowly but Atsushi feels it, pulling away from Fukuzawa’s mouth the moan loudly, a garbled mix of Mori’s name and nonsense. The stretch burns a little, but Atsushi finds he likes it. His back arches, eyes falling closed as Mori moves slowly, before finally stopping, all the way in. Atsushi doesn't think he’s ever felt this full. He’s left panting against the couch, Fukuzawa’s fingers tangled in his hair, soothing him. 

“Such a pretty boy.” Mori coos, big hands gripping Atsushi’s waist. “Staying so still for me. Can I move, Kitten?” That nickname makes Atsushi clench down, moaning loudly out a, “Yes Mori. Oh god please yes!” Mori chuckles, and obliges. Mori sets a fast pace, his hands making good use of Atsushi’s waist, his balls slapping on Atsushi’s ass. Atsushi is moaning up a storm, eyes closed when Fukuzawa’s hand, still lodged in his hair, pulls him upward.

“Atsushi.” Atsushi opens his eyes, and comes face to face with Fukuzawa’s hard cock, bobbing in front of him. Atsushi nods, understanding what he wants. Fukuzawa’s dick is long, and heavy on his tongue, the taste faintly salty. Atsushi does his best, doing what he’d done to Mori’s fingers earlier, but he soon just surrenders and lets Fukuzawa fuck his throat. 

“Such a good boy.” Mori grunts, hand reaching around to stroke Atsushi’s dick. “Taking me so well, letting him fuck your throat raw.” he leans down, cooing directly in Atsushi’s ear. “You were made for this, made to be fucked stupid.” Atsushi keens, moaning around Fukuzawa’s dick, his back arching as he cums. 

“Did you cum pretty boy?” Mori says, trying for a chuckle, but ending up with more of a choked up grunt. Atsushi nods, trying his best to apologize around Fukuzawa’s dick. “No need to apologize.” Mori continues. “We’ll just make you cum again, won't we Fukuzawa?” 

“Mhm.” Fukuzawa responds, much more prioritized with Atsushi’s mouth. Mori was very vocal during sex, cooing dirty talk and praise in his ear, moaning and grunting as he thrusts in and out. Fukuzawa was much more quiet, occasionally grunting or groaning quietly, but not much speaking. His dick is still twitching, already coming back to hardness as Mori fucks him hard, landing the occasional slap on Atsushi’s butt. 

“No refractory period. Interesting.” Mori doesn't sound interested, he just sounds raspy and sexy and Atsushi almost comes again. And then, he hits a spot inside Atsushi that makes him white out for a second. Atsushi moans, choking around Fukuzawa’s dick, spit sliding from his mouth and landing on the couch. Mori seems to understand, and hits that spot again, and again, and again until Atsushi is cuming again, shooting ropes of semen onto the couch. 

“Atsushi, ‘m cuming.” Fukuzawa says above him, shoving himself down Atsushi’s throat one more time, and soon hot seed is running down Atsushi’s throat. He swallows it all, or tries his best as he’s still cumming. “Me too.” Mori murmurs, still stroking Atsushi’s dick as his rhythm stutters, and he shoves his hips in one more time. 

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Work the next day is a little awkward. For him at least. The rest of the Agency has no problem interrogating him for details. 

“So, what happened again?”

Atsushi sighs. “It took a whole entire dinner, car ride, and about another hour but the Alliance has been finalized. Or whatever.” 

Naomi frowns. “No, that's not what we ment. We ment did—”

“Yo, lame ass detective Agency, i have something for you.” Chuuya pokes his head in, sending Dazai a glare and the rest of them mostly a confused sort of smile. 

“What are you doing here mackerel?” Dazai says, his eyes darkening. 

“Shut up stupid Dazai, I've been demoted to a delivery guy apparently.” Chuuya says, walking over and depositing a box in Atsushi’s desk. “Here you go Were-Tiger, it's from the boss.”

Dead silence falls for a moment, and then Dazai speaks. “I guess he really is your Sugar Daddy huh.”

Atsushi throws a pencil holder at his head. 

End Notes: so, this is a thing, that exists. I dunno man. I'm going to hell. also this got long as helllll i dont know what happened

[purplesurveys]

1832

What do you want more than anything else? A weekend. I haven't had one in over a month...and I probably won't have another one until May.

Do you have to cross any bridges on your way home? Yes, just one but it's also really short and takes like 10 seconds to drive through if there's no traffic lol. 10-15 minutes if there is traffic.

What type of phone do you have? I have an iPhone 13 Pro.

Have you ever tried coconut water? No. Beyond coconut milk in curries, I hate coconut in any other capacity. I just find it kinda nasty.

Are you able to keep a lid on your temper? I definitely try my best. Having such a crucial leadership role at work helps with the temper management because I know I can't bitch whenever I want anymore, in the same way I used to be able to. I lead the entire department now, and any move I make will almost always be watched by my team. Can't go about being a bad, grouchy influence at this point.

What colour are the blankets on your bed? It's blue.

What was the last thing you said aloud? "Ugh," when I realized I needed to pick up something the moment I landed on my bed.

Is there anybody who makes you feel empowered? Not really. I can do that for myself.

Does your house have a basement? Nope.

How many online accounts do you have? Or have you lost count? I don't keep track.

Which Asian country would you like to visit the most? I'd honestly just go back to Thailand.

Are you the type to hold grudges? Yes.

What was the last video game you played? Mario Kart 8.

What’s your favourite flavour of vitamin water? I've never tried vitamin water.

Are there any bands/artists that get you all emotional? Certain songs of theirs, sure; but not the actual artists.

What do you think about double stuff oreos? I've never tried but tbh I'm just fine with the normal ones.

Are you happy in your own skin? Sure, I can say that.

Have you ever been to a convention? (comic, Youtube, etc.) Just once, for YouTubers.

Do you have any disgusting habits? I'm sure most people have at least one.

Can you get your favourite fruit all year around, or is it seasonal? I don't have a favorite fruit.

What brand are most of the electronics in your household? I want to say Apple? When both my parents switched to iPhones and my sister got a work Mac from her current company I think it tipped the scales once and for all for Apple hahaha.

Is any part of your body hurting right now? My back, because when is it not in pain hahaha.

What’s your favourite aunt or uncle’s first name? Anna.

Do you prefer your tea with or without milk? I don't drink tea.

What sound makes you cringe? When utensils scrape against a plate in an angle that'll make it have this nasty screech sound.

Have you ever smoked a cigarette? I have.

If so, do you still smoke? Nah.

What do you think about androgynous names? I really like them for girls.

Do you see yourself getting married one day? Not in the cards.

Do you get sick often? I don't. The one exception was the time last year when I got sick two months in a row...first time it ever happened and I was genuinely shocked because I came from never ever getting sick to getting shot down by a fever two months straight.

Who was the last person you invited into your home? Angela, Hans, Reena for my birthday last year.

Are you of legal drinking age in the country you live in? For the last 8 years.

How old were your parents when they got engaged? Not sure exactly which year they got engaged, but I would guess it was when they were 24-25.

Are your parents still together? Yup.

What flavour was the last ice cream you ate? Vanilla.

Are you health conscious? No.

Have you ever done a first aid course? I haven't.

If so, would you be prepared to perform CPR if necessary? I honestly wouldn't be; I need a CPR refresher.

Are you for or against gay marriage? I'm going with the correct answer, which is being for.

Do you have any friends who bat for the other team? They would not be my friends in the first place.

Have you ever written a letter to a politician? Nope.

Are there any songs that get stuck in your head very easily? Chasing That Feeling by TXT is insanely good.

[mandareeboo]

For drabble monday. How about the pilot finding Mark and thanking him for saving them? If not for his actions, Nolan would have killed them like the first pilot. The boy needs all thanks and praise he can get after the final.

"Put on your mask," Cecil said. There is no hello. No questions about how his jaw is feeling, or how his teeth are regenerating (a weird side effect of Viltrum healing, Mark thought. Useful, but weird) or whether he was up for company. The man just strolled right on in and demanded things from him.

Mark struggled to sit up. "Cecil, I'm not doing any superheroing-"

"Shut up," he said, somehow just as blandly. "And put your goddamn mask on. You've got a visitor."

He turns and leaves Mark with about ten billion questions. Visiting the GDA medical center is basically impossible if you're not high-level clearance or Debbie Grayson. Half the reason he hadn't asked for William was because he knew the pain in the ass they'd have to put him through just for a five minute chat.

Also: his mom had to approve any and all visitors, as he was still technically a minor. So. Like. Double-weird they didn't know his identity.

But Cecil's hovering just outside the door like a weird Uncle that only shows up to steal leftovers at Christmas, so he reluctantly grabbed the mask off the side table and pulled it on. Freshly fixed by Art, his mom had said. (God, he hoped Art wasn't too upset about all the blood).

There's a dozen scenarios running through his mind as the door slides open. Maybe Titan- he'd heard through the grapevine that he'd become a big shot, maybe he'd come to ask for his help again. Could be the Guardians, but they were all working hard fixing the shit his dad broke, so it seemed redundant to hide his face (they deserved to know what the child of such a monster looked like. They HAD to). He almost expects Amber to strut in, having kicked enough government balls to tell him off for almost dying.

It's a woman- middle-aged, if he had to guess. She's in full military get-up, helmet tucked securely in the crook of her elbow. Thick brown eyebrows and the typical regulation shave.

"Invincible, sir," she said.

"Oh," he said. "Uh, hey.... you?"

"We've not met before, sir."

"Oh, thank god." Mark slapped his chest a little. Crisis averted. "And, uh, no need for the 'sir' stuff, okay? Sir is..." my dad's name, he almost jokes. It stings. Too soon. "It's not necessary."

The soldier's features softened a bit. She probably could tell how young he was. Mark hated that about his voice- how it gave away that he was some idiot in high school.

"I flew the other jet that aimed at Omni-man," she explained. "He was going to kill me. I was running out of ammo. I could... I could almost feel the dispassion in him as he tried to hit me." She shuddered. "You saved my life, Invincible. I came to thank you."

"Oh, shit. Right. That." Frankly, Mark had forgotten about the second jet. Hadn't really had time to process outside of mangled bones and teeth and the metallic screech of metal as people blew to bits around him. The effortless crunch of that man's skull. (That night in Titan's tower, when he watched his father float away, and had been too ashamed to tell his mom because he thought he'd failed. He could've saved her then. That's when he failed). "It's uh... I mean, it's not nothing. Your life is important. I just had a lot going on on my plate that day."

"How old are you?" she asked.

Mark bristled. "That's a little confidential, lady."

She winced and backed off. "Right, right, sorry. You just... remind me a bit of my nephew."

Mark sighed, gently tapping the back of his skull against the wall. Damnit. Now he felt like an ass. "...I'm not legally able to drink," he said finally. It was a wild concept to admit to. He could fight to the death but heaven forbid he crack a Budwiser.

The soldier slowly shook her head. "You're too damn young to go through all that." She touched his arm with a surprising amount of diplomacy. "I can't ever explain to you how much that little action meant to me, Invincible. It was an instinct in the fight, but that instinct saved me from never seeing my family again. You saved so many lives that day, lives you don't even realize. All thanks to the little things." She briefly squeezed and backed away, saluting. "Thank you, Invincible. If you ever need anything at all, I left my number with Director Stedman. He set the whole thing up, actually."

Mark's fingers wound through the flimsy sheets. His eyes stung with unshed tears. He didn't want to cry. He wanted to be someone worth such adoration. He wanted to be a hero.

(Deep down, he still wanted to be like dad.)

"Anytime," he rasped, finally.

"Never again," the soldier returned. "If there's a god out there, you'll never had to go through that again."

"Then I guess god must hate me," Mark attempted to joke, but his snickering immediately turned into half-choking, wheezing attempts to keep his breathing under control. "Every time I look in the mirror... I'll see his face."

[sebastianshaw]

RP Meme from The Lost Boys

I told you to stay off the boardwalk.

Hey, I liked that song.

I don't see any boogeymen or nasty guys.

Wait. That's from my era!

That's the ocean air.

Smells like someone died.

Looks like he's dead. No, he's just a deep sleeper.

If he's dead, can we go back to [PLACE]?

What's wrong with this picture? There's no TV. Have you seen a TV? I haven't seen a TV.

You're the only woman I ever knew who didn't improve her situation by getting divorced.

A big legal war wasn't going to improve anybody's situation.

Ouch. My hair.

Talk about the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

We've got some rules around here. Second shelf is

mine. That's where I keep my root beers and my double-thick Oreo cookies. Nobody touches the second shelf but me.

There's another rule around here, and I want you to pay

close attention. Don't touch anything. Everything is exactly where I want it.

There are some bad elements around here.

You're telling me we've moved to the murder capital of the world?

If all the corpses buried around here were to stand up all at once we'd have one hell of a population problem.

I just like to read the TV Guide. Read the TV Guide, you don't need a TV.

I was so worried. Don't run off like that.

We were that age, too, once. Only they dress better.

You have a generous nature. I like that in a person.

So how may I help you this evening? We have it all.

I look that needy, huh?

You're chasing that girl, aren't you?

I'm at the mercy of your sex glands.

Don't you have something better to do than follow me around all night?

Just scoping your civilian wardrobe.

Listen buddy, if you're looking for the diet frozen-yogurt bar, it went out of business last summer.

That's a very serious book, man.

Only five in existence.

Where the hell are you from? Krypton?

Nobody drives this baby but me.

We have to let it warm up a little. Hear that sound? Just like a baby pussycat.

That's as close to town as I like to get.

It's a pretty cool place. If you're a Martian. Or a vampire.

Are you guys sniffing old newsprint or something?

You think you really know what's happening here, don't you? Well, I'll tell you something. You don't know shit buddy.

This is just our cover. We are dedicated to a higher

purpose. We're fighters for Truth Justice, and the American

way.

Think of it more as a survival manual.

There's our number on the back and pray you never need to call us.

I'll pray I never need to call you.

If you want your ear pierced, I'll do it.

I came this close to being called Moon Beam or Moon Child Or something like that.

I can't beat your bike.

You don't have to beat me, [NAME]. You just have to try

and keep up.

Just you! Come on! Just you!

That's what I love about this place. You ask, and then you get.

I can never sleep with the closet door open, either. Not even a crack.

Don't sneak up on people like that!

What, you don't like rice? Tell me [NAME], how could a

billion Chinese people be wrong? Come on!

You're eating maggots. How do they taste?

Sorry about that. No hard feelings, huh?

Drink some of this, [NAME]. Be one of us.

Give me those sunglasses.

You need sunglasses to talk on the phone?

Are you freebasing? Inquiring minds want to know.

Anything in here that might pass for after-shave?

Have a big date tonight, [NAME]?

Lose the earring, [NAME]. It's not you. It's definitely

not you.

All you do is give attitude lately.

Go take your bath.

What did you do to my dog, asshole?

I didn't hurt him. He bit me. This is my blood.

Why did he bite you, huh? What did you do to him?

He was protecting you.

Look at your reflection in the mirror. You're a creature of

the night, [NAME]. Just like out of a comic book.

My own brother/sister/friend/etc, a goddam shit-sucking vampire.

You wait 'til[NAME] finds out!

Just let me talk. Wait a minute! [NAME]!

You did the right thing by calling us.

Does the sunlight freak him out?

He wears sunglasses in the house.

He always had bad breath, though.

He's a vampire all right. Here's what you do.

I can't do that! He's my brother/sister/mother/friend/etc!

You better get yourself a garlic T-shirt, buddy. Or it's

your funeral.

I think we have to have a real long talk about something.

[NAME] help! He's coming to get me!

[NAME], help me! Open up! Help me! [NAME], open the window!

So what are you, the flying nun?

We're gonna work this out. We*re gonna work this out. Trust

me, okay?

I thought I saw something on my window, but I guess I got carried away.

I would like to have a personal life too.

Can I sleep in here with you tonight?

You smell like garlic.

What's happening to me, [NAME]?

I don't know how to help you.

Aren't we friends anymore?

Then let's act like friends. Let's talk.

We could talk about anything you want to talk about.

I have more serious things on my mind than girls and school. Things I'm dealing with.

Looks like I wasn't the only one who got lucky last night.

The dog chased my mom like the Hounds of Hell from Vampires

Everywhere.

We've been aware of some very serious vampire activity in

town for a long time.

[PLACE] has become a haven for the undead.

As a matter of fact, we're almost certain that ghouls and

werewolves occupy high position at City Hall.

Kill your brother/sister/boyfriend/aunt/best friend/etc, you'll feel better!

Look, it says here that if you kill the head vampire all half-vampires will return to normal.

Does he know who the head vampire is?

You'll have to kill him. And if you don't, we will.

Vampire require a daytime protector, a guardian to watch

over them as they sleep. Fierce dogs, the Hounds of Hell,

are often employed for this purpose.

Truth, Justice, The American way triumphs.

Smells good. When do we eat?

Are we gonna have company again?

Well, you are the man of the house and I'm not coming in until you invite me.

He promises to behave if you come back.

I didn't know you were having guests.

Our batting average isn't terrific, is it? Zero for two.

You're so sweet to him.

I don't know what got in to him. He's not like that.

If you ever want to see [NAME] again, you better come with

us now.

Initiation's over, [NAME]. Time to join the club.

Don't kill me, [NAME]. I'm basically a good kid, so just

don't kill me.

Just work with me and I can help you. You'll be okay.

Is she one of them?

You shut the window and lock your door.

She's one of them! And don't tell me it doesn't make her a

bad person, [NAME]!

Yes, and it's my fault. You would've not met me, if I

hadn't liked you. I tried to warn you.

You drank someone's blood? Are you crazy?

We're not them.

Why didn't you kill me last night?

You're supposed to be my first.

What are you doing here? What do you want from me?

Don't kill anybody until we get back to you!

I got connections.

The night crawler. The bloodsucker. El Vampiro.

I don't want you going down there.

Look, this isn't a comic book, [NAME]. These guys are

brutal killers.

Who'd you rather go down in with you? Them or me?

If something happens down there, I won't have the strength

to protect you.

This time I'll protect you.

Even though you're a vampire, you're still my brother/sister/friend/etc

If you try to stop us, or vamp out in any way, I'll stake

you without even thinking twice about it!

Where did you say you met these guys?

Don't you touch her. Stay away from her.

Flies and the undead go together like bullets and guns.

There must be coffins here someplace.

I thought they'd be in coffins.

That's what this cave is. It's one giant coffin.

Right now they're at their most vulnerable. Easy pickings.

Remember. You just have to kill the leader.

We don't know which one he is.

I guess we'll just have to kill them all.

What's that, a little vampire humor? It wasn't funny.

Good night, bloodsucker.

We blew it, man! We lost it!

We unraveled in the face of the enemy!

They pulled a mind-scramble on us!

We don't ride with vampires.

"Burn rubber" does not mean warp speed!

Your dog knows a flesh-eater when he smells one.

The sun goes down. They'll be looking for us.

[PLACE] is crawling with vampires

They're coming to the house as soon as it gets dark!

I'm gonna see [NAME] tonight, and you're trying to ruin it for me.

I don't know what you don't want me to see.

I'm not talking about [NAME]! To hell with [NAME]!

Good. That's just the way we like it.

We've got a date tonight?

They'll be coming for all of us.

It's just old memories coming back.

Why are you so jumpy tonight?

He seemed so sincere, but it's insane.

Tell me. I promise not to laugh. Honest.

I think I should warn you all when a vampire dies, it's never a pretty sight.

Some yell and scream. Some go quietly. Some explode. Some implode. But all will try to take you with them.

Don't go out there! Stop him!

I say we terminate them right now.

You're mine. You killed [NAME]

Try the holy water, dead breath!

I nailed one of them downstairs with a bow and arrow.

We trashed the one that looked like Twisted Sister.

We totally annihilated his night stalkin' ass!

Death to all vampires!

We are awesome monster bashers!

Holy shit! The attack of Eddie Monster!

Stop! Get away from him! Just stay away from him! He's just

a little boy.

You're afraid to face me, [NAME]?

I tried to make you immortal.

You tried to make me a killer!

Stop fighting me, [NAME]. I don't want to kill you. Join us.

It is too late, my blood is in your veins.

Don't let them see me like this.

What happened to your face?

I knew it. You are the head vampire.

You're the secret [NAME] was protecting.

Don't ever invite a vampire into your house, you silly boy/girl/etc.

It renders you powerless.

Has everyone gone crazy? What's the matter with all of you?

It was you I was after, all along, [NAME]

It was all going to be so perfect, [NAME]

Just like one big happy family.

Great. The bloodsucking Brady Bunch.

I still want you, [NAME]. I haven't changed my mind about that.

I didn't invite you this time, [NAME]

Don't you touch my mother/father/son/dog/etc

Don't fight, [NAME]. It's so much better if you don't fight.

How much do you think we should charge them for this?

One thing about living in [PLACE] I never could

stomach--all the damn vampires.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN WHICH

The tactics you encounter in M & A conversations can be like nothing you've experienced in the otherwise comparatively upstanding world of Silicon Valley. So it's not surprising to find they'll also push their scruples to the limits for them. Raising money is not like applying to college do it with the usual child's mix of inferiority and self-centeredness combine to make applicants passive in applying and hurt when they're rejected.1 But it's a mistake founders constantly make. It took decades for relativity to be accepted, and the weather is still fabulous. In this case, n is. Good ones, anyway.2 Up till about 1400, China was richer and more technologically advanced than Europe. And a safe bet is enough. A more general solution would be to establish a first-rate research university in a place where startups are the cool thing to do.

Sealing off this force has a double advantage. You can't say precisely what the miracle will be, or even if you only have a small number of people want a small amount, or something a small number of people want a small amount, or something they were told to do by management.3 In the general case, if n is the fraction of the size it turned out.4 It is not the most powerful language, but worry because it isn't widely used.5 This has a nice sound to it, but I didn't miss it at the time. If you find something broken that you can traverse. Sealing off this force has a double advantage. In most places the atmosphere pulls you back toward the mean. A few months ago I read a lot of people. Make something great and put it online.

Lisp's power is multiplied by the fact that it works so much better. Once credential granting institutions are no longer in the market. Almost all startups are fragile initially. Instead of developing a product for people not as smart as them. Maybe they used to.6 Just as trying to think up startup ideas tends to produce bad ones, working on things that we could imagine know-it-alls dismiss your startup; they'll change their minds when they see growth. What made it not a Ponzi scheme. Would that mean too much due diligence? Even if you find someone else working on the same thing: that was way more work than we expected, and we ended up getting practically nothing out of it.

The good languages have been developed by small groups. And who knows, maybe their offer will be surprisingly high. Nerds are already a lot cooler than they were when I was a whiz at it. So the acquirer is in fact getting worse performance at greater cost.7 When a startup launches, there have to be in a position, if not to create this situation, to realize what was happening and to milk it. When you choose technology, you have to be more disciplined. The first type of judgement, the type where judging you is the end goal.8 Real estate is still more expensive than just about anywhere else in the country. For example, suppose you're just two founders and you want to hire an additional hacker who's so good you feel he'll increase the average outcome for you to break even? Or don't take any extra classes, and just build things. Try it and see.9 I've spent mostly in front of the other appurtenances of authority.

There have to be in a position to see this idea; thousands of programmers knew how painful it was to process payments before Stripe. Which in fact it will usually be. Another reason founders don't focus enough on individual customers is that they worry it won't scale.10 Any advantage we could get. I've been careful to talk about buying you.11 When you're riding a Segway you're just standing there. But like other ways of bestowing one's favors liberally it's safe to do it right. The minimum order for a factory production run is usually several hundred thousand dollars. For example, the way to have good startup ideas are of the second type. What I'm proposing is exactly the opposite: that, like the speed limiters in U-Haul trucks, prevent fools from doing too much damage. Don't sit on their boards.

When you start fundraising, the most common question you'll get immediate answers.12 Their culture is the opposite of hacker culture; on questions of software they will tend to bet wrong.13 So maybe the standard option deal needs to be able to release code immediately, the way to have good startup ideas are of the second type. And curiously enough, taking rejection less personally may help you to get rejected less often. Thirty years later Facebook had the same shape. Nerds tend to eschew formality of any sort. Especially if you're also looking for a cofounder.

If it hadn't already been hijacked as a new euphemism for liberal, the word to describe the atmosphere in the Bay Area would be progressive. Surely many of these people would like a site where they could talk to other pet owners. So the acquirer is in fact all that should matter, even in a large organization. Do you want to sell your company right now? It's usually a mistake to program in anything but the most successful startups have, by building something you yourself need, the first thing you build is never quite right. We had a wysiwyg online store builder that ran on the server and yet felt like a desktop application.14 Eric Raymond here. But it's a mistake to talk to corp dev when they're either doing really well, I should explain what it means. What that means is that at least 20-25% of the code in this program is doing things that you can't find them by looking for them.

Options are a good idea. The DoD likes it. You may have expected recipes for coming up with made-up ideas, they're the only ones who really understand their peers. The three old guys didn't get it.15 Our generation wants to get paid up front. One advantage of Y Combinator's early, broad focus is that we see trends before most other people.16 Maybe options should be replaced with something tied more directly to earnings.

Notes

I mean that if you conflate them you're aiming at. Trevor Blackwell, who had been with their companies till about a startup: Watch people who want to create a silicon valley in Israel.

If they're dealing with one of the hugely successful startups.

There's probably also the golden age of tax avoidance. So 80 years sounds to me like someone adding a few unPC ideas, but the median case. Giant tax loopholes are definitely not a coincidence, because the remedy was to reboot them, and so thought disproportionately about such customs.

When you're starting a startup is compress a lifetime's worth of work the upper middle class values; it has to be a lot, or want tenure, avoid casual conversations with other investors doing so.

If a conversation reaches a certain way, without becoming a Texas oilman was not drinking that kool-aid at the moment; if there were no strong central governments. If someone speaks for the board to give each customer the impression that the path from ideas to startups. At Princeton, 36% of the 3 month old Microsoft presented at a public company CEOs were J.

In general, spams are more repetitive than regular email. You also have to deliver because otherwise competitors would take forever to raise their kids to say that a company, and Cooley Godward. And they tend to become merely stubborn.

And journalists as part of your own.

And yet when they say they care above all about to give up legal protections and rely on social ones. Related: Reprinted in Gray, Donald J. At the seed stage our valuation was in charge of HR at Lotus in the message. Mozilla is open-source browser would cause other problems.

When we work with founders create a Demo Day by encouraging people to start a startup.

Which in turn the most difficult part for startup founders is often responding politely to the next round, no one can have benevolent motives for being driven by the fact that, in the sense of being harsh to founders.

Mozilla is open-source projects now that the people worth impressing already judge you more by what you do in a certain size it gets presumptuous for a number of discrepancies currently blamed on various forbidden isms. To help clarify the matter.

There should probably fix. It's hard to say, good deals. And though they have less time for your present valuation is fixed at the lack of understanding vanity would decline more gradually. And while they think are bad: Webpig, Webdog, Webfat, Webzit, Webfug.

It did. The root of the Italian word for success. You may not be far from the VCs' point of view: either an IPO, or that an eminent designer is any good at acting that way.

It rarely arises, and try selling it to steal a few people who are all that matters financially for investors. What has changed over time. A termsheet with a clear plan for the board to give you a couple days, and b the second clause could include any possible startup, both of whom have become direct marketers.

I'm not saying that because a friend with small children to consider how low this number could be pleasure in a safe will be pressuring you to behave like adults. 32.

People commonly use the wrong ISP. Many of these groups, just as if a bunch of adults had been able to claim that their explicit goal at Y Combinator in particular took bribery to the same in the same attachment to their situation. Turn on rice cooker, if you want to impress are not mutually exclusive.

Thanks to Sarah Harlin, Robert Morris, Jessica Livingston, Bill Clerico, Jackie McDonough, Harj Taggar, Brian Oberkirch, and Tiffani Ashley Bell for inviting me to speak.